Passing Back the Torch
by Ainyan
Summary: Thane Krios and Kaidan Alenko have a bit of a heart to heart in the hospital. F!Shep/Thane/Kaidan


I stood outside the hospital room, staring at the human laying prone upon the single bed within. The man's face was covered with healing bruises, the purple masking having faded to a sickly yellow-green as time and the doctors' ministrations helped to heal the incredible damage done to his head. When first I had met this human, I hadn't been aware of his identity – but had been duly impressed by his conviction to duty and his sense of honor. We two had spent an hour talking of nothing consequential, and I had, in that brief time, come to admire the man who had spoken so passionately even about insignificant things.

Then _she_ had come to see me, as I had requested in his brief letter to her. My Siha – my warrior-angel – and I'd felt the tug of that attraction that had haunted me during our brief time so many months before. Though ours had been a relationship lamentably short – she'd held in her heart another, and I was not willing to ask her to bind herself to someone so soon dead – I had known then, as I knew the moment I saw her again, that there was a spark that could have borne an eternal flame had either of us chosen to fan it. We had spoken, as close friends will, of the troubles which plagued us; so many, these days, with the Reapers finally having fulfilled her dire predictions. And in her gentle kiss I had tasted her despair at the knowledge of my death soon to come. And then she had spoken of her friend – her beloved – who lay injured through actions which had, in turn, protected her.

I wondered how my memory had failed to remind me of this man's name – Kaidan Alenko. Certainly, I had heard it often enough from my Siha – and from the rest of the crew, especially after the mission to Horizon. I had been warned, like all the newcomers, of the altercation between this Alenko and the commander; warned not to mention it around her. Respecting her pain, I had never brought it up – and though she'd talked to me of much, she herself had never mentioned the cause of the grief I had seen lingering in her eyes during the days that followed that particular mission. _Perhaps,_ I mused, as I stood off to the side and watched the major watching the Citadel – _I had blocked the name from my memory; in these last days of my life, I preferred to dwell only on those memories which brought pleasure: Irikah's eyes. Kolyat's voice. Shepard's touch._

I didn't know if I had made a sound, or if the human had simply tired of watching the traffic flow between the arms, but Alenko turned in his bed and saw me lingering outside his room. Honest pleasure lightened those bruised features, and one hand lifted in a come-ahead gesture. Ignoring the brief, irrational surge of rebellion, I obediently stepped into the room, letting the door slide shut at my back. "Tannor, good to see you." His use of the alternate moniker gave me pause, and I felt the unfamiliar tang of guilt rising in my breast as I settled into the chair at Kaidan's bedside.

"Alenko," I said gravely – these days, I found it difficult to express emotion through my voice, as anything could bring on a fit of coughing. "You are looking better. Soon you will leave us, to continue the fight." I sighed then, rubbing my hands together and worrying at the stiffening joints – another sign of my decreasing condition. "Some days, I wish I could join you. But that time is past, and there are always others to pick up the burden that some of us must leave behind."

"I'm sure you did all you could when you could," Alenko replied, and his sincerity touched my heart. The man was so _good_. I felt guilt once again take hold, and this time I sighed with it – coughing a little at the exhalation. He shifted in his bed as if to hold out his hand to me, but pulled back at the last moment, though concern still showed on his face. I was grateful for his restraint – too often these days I was poked and prodded, and as a former assassin, I have always prized my personal space a little too much. "Take pride and pleasure in that."

"I do." I fell silent for a moment, formulating my thoughts. "I cannot stay long. There is another here to see you, though I believe she is speaking with your doctors at the moment. I – " And I hesitated, uncertain exactly why I had come in here. "I think I needed to speak with you before she did."

His open face registered curiosity – like so many humans, he wore his emotions on his sleeve, easy enough to read for those with the skill to see them. "Who – Is it Shepard? Do you know Commander Shepard?" The eagerness in his voice caused an inward wince, and I was grateful now for the ambiguity of drell features – though my discomfort would have been a shout for any of my own race, a human unfamiliar with the nuances of my species would be unable to discern it.

"I – yes. Commander Shepard is here. Alenko… Kaidan," I corrected myself, acceding at last to his desire to be called by his first name, "I'm afraid I have not been entirely honest with you. The name you know me by, Tannor, is a pseudonym. My real name is Thane Krios." In that instant – from the polite confusion on his face – I could see he did not know of me, or of my relationship to his former lover. And my courage almost failed me.

"I'm sorry," he offered. "I don't recognize your name. But any friend of Shepard's is a friend of mine." Despite the kind words, I could sense the thread of suspicion in him, could see the way he drew back just slightly. "How do you know her?"

Drawing a breath, I replied. "I served with her on board the Normandy while she was fighting the Collectors." The recognition now was immediate – recognition of the mission, but still not of me. "She recruited me on Illium, and I was with her until she was taken into custody. I…" And again, my resolve withered in the face of the truth: This was the man she had loved. She had kept a picture of him in her cabin, and though she had turned it facedown when I had begun sharing her bed, she had never rid herself of it, because no matter how she loved me – she loved him too, and would long after I was gone.

"I see," Kaidan said slowly, reaching up to rub one hand absently over his chest. "I'm glad to know that she had someone like you with her. I had…" And here was guilt – I could read it easily. "Duty," he said shortly, and I nodded my understanding. "I hope you had a chance to talk to her. I'm sure she'd like to know that you're…" He trailed off, brow wrinkling. I knew what he had been about to say: 'Well'. But I wasn't well, and even if he did not know the extent of our relationship, he knew my Siha well enough to know that she would grieve for me even if we were simply friends.

I smiled, though he may not have been able to tell. "I am grateful for the time she took to speak with me," was my noncommittal reply. "It was good to see her again. The last time we spoke was the morning the Alliance came to take her in to… custody." Unbidden, the reminding flashed into my mind, blinding me to everything but this one, bittersweet memory. _Eyes the color of grass in sunlight; tear-stains on the pillow, though she would never shed them when I could see. Dark skin like the chocolate she secretly stashed in her desk. Thick hair – so long then, tousled from sleep and from the morning's hurried, frantic exertions. "I have to go, Thane. I don't – I don't know when I'll see you again." The kiss – passion born of despair, of knowledge that it would likely be our last. Then Joker's reluctant voice, informing the Commander that the Alliance representatives had arrived…_

I did not realize I'd spoken aloud until the major drew back from me, his expression first puzzled, then horrified. My soul had apparently chosen to override my body's hesitation – and perhaps it was for the best. Full confession was needed; atonement had to be made before I could be entirely peaceful for my journey across the sea. I sat there, staring at him, waiting with outward patience – though inside, I seethed with a morass of anxiety – to see how he reacted to this revelation. He seemed stunned, and I worried briefly that there had been more to his injuries that he'd let on; that perhaps more than his implant had been, in his word, "rattled". Then his expression softened; no, melted, into one of quiet grief. "I didn't realize. I hadn't heard that she had…" He trailed off, clearly unable to find the right words. I could read them, though, in his sorrowful brown eyes.

"She needed comfort," I murmured. "She was alone – in unfamiliar territory, on a mission that promised to be suicide for all involved. She'd made a deal with one she considered evil, and she worried that in doing so, she had sold out her soul. And you – " I stopped there. This was not a time for recriminations, nor was it my place to give them; though I did, and would always, feel a slight anger for what I saw as his betrayal of a woman worthy of the utmost loyalty. "I love her, Kaidan Alenko. And she loves me. But we are not meant to be – I know this, as does she. What we were was a brief moment in her life; a flash of happiness when it was so desperately needed. But I cannot be for her what you can – and she does not want me to be."

The laugh he gave was edged with sorrow; bitter humor reflected in his eyes as he stared at me, his fingers picking and plucking at the bed sheets. "What I can be? Nothing. What she went through after… after the Normandy – I've read the reports. I've heard the stories. I've seen for my own eyes what she has become. And instead of supporting her, I questioned her – I questioned her loyalty, I questioned her sanity… I questioned whether she was really _her_." He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, his fingers flexing apart, then closing into a fist on the covers. "I screwed up with her, Thane. And – well, it shouldn't surprise me that she moved on. And, well…" His eyes opened again, stared straight into mine. "At least it was with someone like you."

The compliment touched me, and shamed me. He still wasn't aware of my past; he wasn't aware of what I had been doing when Shepard had saved me – saved me from suicide, saved me from myself. I could see in his gaze that he saw in me what I saw in him – honor, loyalty, virtue. And it was then I realized, suddenly, that it was true. I had honor. I had loyalty. I had virtue – because Shepard had reminded me of the value of such things. Just as I had no doubt that she had encouraged their growth in him. What we were was, in part, shaped by the love of a woman, a woman for whom such assets were paramount. Though both of us had, in our own way, been good men, she had made us work all the harder to deal with our personal demons; to overcome our personal obstacles and be the kind of men that she needed us to be. "You are exactly what she needs, Kaidan," I stated firmly. "And you are exactly who she loves. Take this as truth from one who has seen her heart. I may have borrowed it for a while, but it will always belong to you and you alone."

Maybe it was my sincerity – maybe it was his own desire, but I could tell he believed me. He swallowed a few times, plainly searching for the right thing to say. Finally, "I wish I had more time to get to know you, Thane Krios," he murmured. "I think that you and I would have been good friends."

"I think, Kaidan Alenko," I said gently, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm, "that we already are. Friends. No… brothers. For the love of a woman, for the love of a galaxy that we both want to save, let there be nothing between us but honor." His hand came up then, and covered my own with a light pressure that would be no trouble for me to break. I chose not to, instead holding the contact as a shocking relief ran through my body; a lifting of my soul that told me that I had made my final atonement, taken the last step to cleansing myself for the journey across the sea.

When death came for me, as it surely would, I would meet it with my head held high and my heart light, for I knew that I had earned my peace.


End file.
